


You Are My Sunshine

by storywriter713



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, Bisexual Dean, Cas and Dean are Emotionally Abusive, Chai - Freeform, Chai tea obsession, Comfort, Consensual Underage Sex, Depression, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, FTM Castiel, Fluff and Angst, Forgiveness, Friends to Lovers, Graphic Description, Graphic descriptions, Healing, Healing From Past Abuse, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Irregular Chapter Posting Due to Hectic Life (sorry), It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, PTSD flashbacks, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Abuse in the Relationship, Self-Harm, Slut Shaming, Social Anxiety, Therapy, Transphobia, Trigger Warning!!!, Triggers, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, Underage Substance Use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2018-09-08 23:19:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8867332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storywriter713/pseuds/storywriter713
Summary: When Castiel, a female to male transgender student transfers to a public high school after 5 years of homeschooling, he experiences a major culture shock. Luckily, Dean Winchester is there to help guide him through it. Their friendships quickly escalates into something way more than Castiel ever expected. Castiel faces new challenges that help him heal from past experiences, and help him learn to respect himself. Plus, the smut definitely helps Cas learn more about his (and Dean's) body.





	1. You Will Survive the Day

_First day at a new school, Castiel. You can do it. Believe in yourself. You will survive the day._

I always have to start and end my day with a positive. I really don’t think it helps, but maybe it is and I just don’t realize it. Either way, it’s a nice thought to know that I am physically capable of thinking nice things about myself. Depression sucks. Gender dysphoria sucks. Social anxiety sucks. Being lonely for life sucks. Life sucks. Yeah, I’ve got a lot of issues to work on.

_Come on, Castiel. Focus. You can do this._

I… can do this? Yes. I will do this.

I finally slide out of bed, fifteen minutes later than I should have. I quickly jump into the shower, taking care not to let the water touch my chest, and looking up at the ceiling with closed eyes. Pretending like there’s nothing there. Just like I always do, day after day, shower after shower. I dry off as quickly as possible, flinching every time the towel brushes against my chest. Every time it does, it elicits an urge to claw off the nasty things on my chest, an urge to scream into the abyss, and an urge to -

_NO. No thinking about suicide, you’re over that, remember that Castiel?_

It’s really reassuring to think the name that doesn’t make me want to rip my ears off. I take comfort in that fact as I hurriedly get dressed. Putting on my chest binder almost dislocates my shoulder since the material clings to the water droplets still on my back, refuses to budge. I begin to get claustrophobic. When the material finally can be pulled down, I take as deep of a breath as I physically can, put my shirt on, and walk into the kitchen for breakfast. I make myself a nice big bowl of cereal and a cup of chai tea to go along with my medication. The medication keeps me from having the monthly apocalypse cycle from hell, which means I can be happier and want to kill myself less.

I check to see if my dad is home once I’ve cleaned up my dishes and gotten my backpack ready. It’s 7:13am, and I have to get going so I can learn the layout of my new school. I can tell that he’s not home, because the space right outside of his bedroom door doesn’t reek of alcohol. I somberly walk to the entryway and grab my student ID and house key. I memorized the bus schedule and route the night before, so I quickly put on my shoes, grab my stuff, and walk to the bus stop. I manage to get to school extremely early, a good thing since I have to map out all of my classes.

I have an A/B day schedule, which means that half of my classes are on one day, and the other half the next day. They alternate to give the students more time in class, and so they have to carry around less stuff all day. There are less back problems that way. My first period class is very fun. It’s a really good start to the day. The class is my language class, American Sign Language. It’s a lot different than I expected, sitting in a classroom after five years of being homeschooled. I have a really good feeling about today.

My second period class is Geometry. I’m put at a table with a boy named Samandriel, who seems like a very nice person, and a girl named Meg, who seems very annoyed and angry at everything. Meg takes an instant liking to me, and I am ecstatic when she invites me to eat lunch with her.

_Look at you go, Castiel! Friends on the first day of your sophomore year!_

I feel eyes staring at me, so I look to the table across from mine and see another student watching me. We make eye contact, and when he doesn’t look away I blush and hastily turn my head. Does he think I’m some pretty girl he can hook up with? I cross my fingers that he at least knows that I’m a guy, and I pray that he’s not going to be some creep. Throughout the entire lesson, I just feel his eyes glued to me, following my every movement. Who is this guy?

The rest of the day goes by surprisingly quickly. My mind keeps going back to that kid who kept staring at me in geometry. My social anxiety kicks in as I try to fall asleep. What if I had something on my face? What if I had resting sad face? Resting bitch face? Did I smell bad?

_Stop it, Castiel. You survived the day. That is all that matters._


	2. You Can Face the Day

_The first day of the second school week. You’ve got to get used to dragging yourself out of bed by now. Get up. You can face the day._

I let out a frustrated groan as I roll off of my bed and onto the floor. _Thud._ “Ow.”

My shoulder throbs as I tiredly stumble into the bathroom for a shower. I catch a glimpse of my chest in the mirror and freeze. My brain goes blank and my body feels numb. I finally tear my eyes away from the mirror and shuffle into the shower, zombie-like. I turn the water up as hot as I can stand it. It scalds my back, bringing tears to my eyes as I bite my finger so I won’t make any noise. I stand there for what feels like eternity. Tears spill from my eyes as I shut the hot water off and turn the cold water on, unable to handle any more pain. 

Putting my binder on makes me grit my teeth and let out several pained whimpers. _This is what happens when you hurt yourself, Castiel._ The coarse fabric of my chest binder chafes against the burnt skin on my back with every breath and every movement. There is no possible way for me to raise my arms over my head, so I manage to put on a button-up shirt and somehow put on a zip-up tan hoodie without bringing more tears to my eyes.

 _OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW,_ I scream in my head. My backpack jostling against my back leaves me wanting to hiss in pain as I walk up and down stairs to get to my classes. In geometry, Meg and Samandriel aren’t there yet. I sigh heavily and sit down as carefully as I can, staring at the wall in front of me. I feel someone looking at me, and accidentally make eye contact with the kid who keeps staring at me. I’m shocked when he stands up and sits across from me, and begins talking.

“Hey, I noticed that you were alone and I was alone, so I decided to come over and talk. I’m Dean. You’re Castiel, right?” the boy says, still staring at me.

“Uh, yeah. Hi,” I respond. _Why is he talking to me?_ “How are you?”

“I’m good,” he answers. “How are you?”

“I’m…” I can’t tell a complete stranger about my life problems, so I answer with, “tired.”

“Oh boy me too. Can’t believe school has to be at such ungodly hours. They used to have night school, y’know. Wish it was still around,” Dean says.

Night school. “That sounds heavenly,” I say. “I hate getting up at 6:30.”

“6:30?” Dean exclaims. “I get up at 6! You lucky sonufabitch!” He looks at my backpack and notices the water bottle I have in a side pocket. “What you got to drink?”

“Um… Chai tea. I really like it,” I reply.

“Really? I freaking love chai tea!” Dean doesn’t really strike me as the type of person who likes tea, but he seems to be really enthusiastic and genuine.

 _Maybe this guy isn’t so bad after all, he seems like he just wanted to be friends… Wow, maybe I’m not a complete loser._ I start to say something, but then Meg walks up from behind me and slams her backpack in between Dean and I.

“That’s my seat,” Meg growls.

Dean gets up, his hands in the air in a gesture of surrender. I’m surprised to find myself sad that he had to move back to his seat. I ignore Meg’s attempts at what seem like flirtation, and try and focus on the lesson. I can’t concentrate. I keep casually glancing at Dean, and every single time I look at him, he gets this really cute smile on his face. Wait.

 _No Castiel, don’t you dare get a crush. Crushes are bad. Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare. You don’t deserve to be loved and you certainly aren’t able to love other people._ I stare at my notes. I know I need to think positive, it’s just so hard to do, especially when my back is hurting so badly. _You do deserve love, Castiel. High school relationships always end really badly, and you don’t need more pain in your life. It’s better to save yourself from that pain. Don’t get a crush on Dean._

I glance one last time at Dean, who’s still staring at me. When I look away, I find Meg watching me. She leans in, closer than is socially acceptable, and whispers, “You know, that Dean is very popular with the ladies. Some people would call him a womanizer. I see you eyeing him, don’t even think about it. Have you seen how much cammo he wears? And his leather jacket? Sunshine, you’re better off with someone like me. I can treat you real good.”

I sit back in my chair, trying not to cough from the odor coming off of her clothes, and from her breath. Marijuana. Her pupils are extremely dilated, and the veins in her eyes are more prominent. She keeps leaning forward as I lean back until her mouth is right by my ear.

“I _really_ like your sweater. It looks good on you, really covers up that… redness on your neck,” she mutters. She sits back in her seat and winks at me, smirking.

After school, I lay in bed contemplating everything that happened. Meg Masters is a manipulative druggie who is infatuated with me. Dean evidently thinks I’m a girl, if he’s actually trying to get into my pants. I close my eyes, trying to trap in the tears. It doesn’t work. Why can’t I make a single friend? Maybe I really am a loser. God knows how much of a mistake I am. Some boy in a girl’s body. No. A girl who thinks she’s a boy. Lord, where did I go wrong?

_Don’t think about it, Castiel. You faced the day, you made it through. Now it’s time to sleep and rejuvenate so you can face tomorrow._


	3. You Are Strong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very, very sorry for the extremely late update, things have been very busy. I'm aiming to post a new chapter every month from now on.

_A month into school, and you’re late for the first time, Castiel. Get out of bed! Surely you can muster up the courage for that? You are strong._

My eyes fly open as I launch out of bed, turning off the alarm that has been ringing for the past twenty minutes. I can’t believe I slept through my alarm. I’m too light of a sleeper to do that. Growing up with a constant fear of my father coming into my room to do scary things to me really works wonders for my sleeping schedule. _Wait, Castiel, did you just use sarcasm? You did. Oh my Lord, public school has really changed you._ I realize suddenly that I had fallen asleep in the clothes I wore yesterday, including my chest binder. I grimace in pain as I put on my backpack and rush out of the front door, praying to God that I didn’t forget anything.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I check it, keeping one eye on the screen and the other on the sidewalk in front of me.

Meg: Good morning sunshine!

Me: Good morning.

Meg: I can’t wait to see u in geo today

Meg: remember that guy i told u about? The one that i like?

Me: Yes. What about him?

Meg: Well he’s pretty ignorant idk how 2 get his attention

Me: You could always be overdramatic about complimenting his shirt, or something similar to that. You could also be outright with your feelings to avoid any confusion. What is his name?

Meg: I plead the fifth on that one

Meg: Yeah, thx, I think I’m gonna do that

Meg: Hey Castiel?

Me: Yes?

Meg: You wanna go out with me?

My bus pulls up to the stop right as I get there. I clamber on, relieved that I made it on time, but then proceed to, as Dean would put it, “flip out.” What am I going to say to her? She scares me. She acts nice towards me, but I can tell that it’s just a faux persona. She has an extremely short temper and is very easily offended by almost everything. She also shows up to school reeking of cannabis, and is very sexually driven. Even if I did have romantic or sexual feelings for her, she would not be a healthy choice for me to pursue. It takes me most of the bus ride to type out a response, even if most of it is a lie.

Me: Wow, that is very flattering. You are a great person with many good qualities, however I am not ready for a relationship, for which I am very sorry. I hope we can remain friends?

Meg: Yeah, totally, I understand :)

Meg: would it be ok if i hold your hand tho?

Meg: They look really soft and angelic

Me: I’m not sure how comfortable I am with that, I’m sorry.

Meg: ok, sry

I climb off of the bus and walk into the school. Meg, her friends, and I have been meeting up during the time before school in the cafeteria, but I’m not wanting to continue to do that. I sigh and sit down on a bench in senior hall, and wait, bored, for the first bell to ring. I have no apps on my phone, so I can only watch students and teachers wander around the halls, completely oblivious to worlds other than their own. I close my eyes and try to relax. My anxiety about Meg asking me to date her is still sky high, knowing that I have to see her during Geometry today. I pray to God that nothing bad happens. Unfortunately, God never listens to my prayers.

Time flies by too quickly, and it’s already time for Geometry. I take a deep breath and wince in pain. My binder has been chafing against the healing burns on my back, and my ribs feel bruised from the constant constriction. The breath causes me to cough, hard, and I feel my ribcage pop in the back, and intense pain. I bite my lip to keep from crying out. My eyes watering, I enter the Geometry classroom. Of course the first person I see is Meg. She jumps up when she sees me and runs over, grabbing my arm and dragging me to the seat next to hers. I let out an inaudible whimper, half of it from fear and the other half from the pain in my rib. Meg pushes me into my chair then pulls hers so that it is directly next to me. She sits down and our legs brush against each other. 

She leans in closer to me, way too close for comfort, and whispers, “I couldn’t wait for this class! I love seeing you, you’re the only reason why I haven’t dropped out of school yet.”

I clear my throat awkwardly. I can’t think of anything to say. Meg sits there in silence, just staring at me. There is an angry look in her eyes that causes me to feel more fear than before. I see her brown eyes look behind me, and turn to see what she’s looking at. My heart skips a beat. It’s Dean. My face grows warm as I quickly look down at my hands in my lap. Why do I always freeze up around Dean?

“Well look who showed up,” Meg sneers, scooting her chair away from mine.

Dean gives Meg a dirty look as he sits down across from me. “People are sitting at my seat, so I decided to join you guys here. Is that okay, Castiel?”

I startle. “Uh, yes, that’s fine,” I mumble, my face still unusually warm.

The table gets really quiet. The silence is awkward and tense, and lasts for what feels like an eternity before a girl comes running to our table right as the bell rings. She’s winded, breathing heavily as she sits down. She puts her long, red hair in a ponytail.

“So sorry for just sitting here, my seat’s taken. Did we switch seats?” she asks, looking around.

“Nah, the teacher just stopped enforcing the seating chart. He doesn’t really care,” Dean replies. “How’re you, Anna?”

“I’m good, but class is starting!”

Everyone pulls out their notebooks and turn to the teacher, who talks for about five minutes before a lockdown drill happens. Everyone shuffles to the corner of the classroom. Meg makes sure that she is directly next to me, and seems very annoyed when I end up sitting in between her and Dean. She slides closer to me until our knees are touching. As casually as I can, I move away from her and get closer to Dean, who is looking at his phone. People all around us are taking videos and laughing and being loud, even the teacher is telling jokes. I don’t understand. Shouldn’t everyone be quiet and keeping the room as dark as possible? That’s how it was in my elementary school. High school must be a lot more informal than I expected it to be.

Dean looks over at me and my face warms again. He smirks at me and leans closer until his mouth is by my ear and he whispers, “Just wait until the first fire drill of the year happens, it’s pretty hectic.”

I’m about to reply when Meg grabs my arm to get my attention. I sigh as quietly as I can and turn to her, giving her as little attention as I can get away with.

The rest of the school day was boring, although watching teenagers make complete fools of themselves to look “cool” was highly entertaining. When I clamber into bed, I have to lay down on my stomach to avoid the pain in my rib. I lay in bed thinking, and hoping that maybe, just maybe, I can get away from Meg and befriend Dean. I fall asleep, realizing right as I drift off that this is the first night I have not cried myself to sleep.

_You’re doing great Castiel. Maybe things won’t be as terrible next month._


	4. You Officially Matter

_I cannot face another day. I just can’t. I can just feel it. I’m going to end my life, I’m going to do it soon._

I lay in bed, my alarm screeching at me to get up. My eyes leak on their own accord as I roll out of bed and land on the floor. My elbow and shoulder ache as I stand up. I couldn’t care less about what happens to me at this point. I just can’t keep doing it. I just can’t keep living. It hurts too much. My phone buzzes and I know that it’s Meg. She has been harassing me ever since she first asked me to date her. Hurling insults at me. Trying to touch me. Cyber bullying. Whatever, it’s not like I don’t deserve it. I’m used to it. I’m used to being hurt, I’m used to hurting. _Why did I survive my suicide attempt when I was 12. It’s not worth it._ I drag myself to school and pray that I get hit by a bus.

I don’t know what happened. I just got so depressed so fast. I guess the novelty of escaping an abusive home wore off after almost two months. That, and Dean turns out to be the most hardcore stoner I’ve ever heard of. He does weed, shrooms, cigarettes, alcohol, and who knows what else, and he’s proud of it. I can’t love a druggie, I just can’t be in a relationship with one. _Castiel, what if you can be the one to show him the right path? What if you can get him to quit the dangerous habits and show him that he doesn’t need those?_ I actually ponder that for a second. _No, he’s pursuing Crowley, one of the people he does drugs with. Him and Alastair.. You can’t get in the way of his happiness like that. Besides, how could he ever love you? You’re worthless and can’t be loved. Your own family has told you and shown you this. Stop crushing your own hopes._

I’m sitting at my table in geometry staring into space when a loud, ear-piercing shriek blares. I startle heavily, as does Anna who is diagonal to me. The first fire drill of the year. Dean was correct, it is very hectic. The teacher just tells us to go out onto the field, so we all shuffle out slowly since the halls are so packed with students and teachers. Once we’re outside, things get calmer. My heartbeat is finally slowing down from the scare. I can see that Anna is freaking out, so I go over to her.

“Would you like a hug?” I ask her as politely as I can. This will be the first person I’ve hugged in five years. I’m extremely nervous, but it feels right. I can see a friendship forming between her and I, and this will likely help it soar.

“Oh my God, yes, please, I’m freaking out!” Anna replies.

Hugging is weird. Something about wrapping arms around another person is oddly intimate, even in the most platonic of settings. I see Dean watching us, and I feel oddly self-conscious. I told myself that I would stop having a crush on him. I’m denying the hell out of it and I will continue to. After all, Dean’s pursuing another person, Anna has a crush on him, Meg has a dangerous crush on me. It’s just too complicated to work out. The hug between Anna and I is very brief. I really hope that I did it right and didn’t come across as awkward. I’m sure the hug was very painful to watch.

Dean saunters up to me and says, “Hugs are really nice.”

I’m taken aback. “Uh… are you asking for a hug as well, Dean?”

His face turns a touch pinker than before. “I’m not the type of guy to turn down a hug, I love hugs.”

 _OH MY GOD DEAN WINCHESTER IS HUGGING YOU OH MY LORD_ No, Castiel, stop freaking out. _DON’T MESS UP DON’T MESS UP_ This hug is excruciatingly awkward. _BEING IN HIS ARMS IS LIKE HEAVEN_ No, it’s not Castiel. Stop it. Right now. Pull away. _You don’t want to pull away. You’re enjoying this more than you will ever admit._ Why do my own thoughts betray me? _You can help him be healthier and stop using substances. Admit you like him. Let yourself like him._ Crowley and Anna. _He has no interest in Anna, and if things don’t work out with Crowley then you’ll have your chance! Just help him get Crowley and maybe he’ll see that you’re not that worthless._ I am that worthless. _Dean’s still hugging you. You’ve got a chance._ I contemplate this. Maybe I do actually have a chance with Dean. Fine. It’s worth a chance.

I go home that day not wanting to commit suicide. I still self harm, though. It’s my first relapse in a year. My knives got taken away a long time ago, so I use pushpins. Something about scraping the layers of skin off to reach the blood fills me with a rush. It makes me feel alive, grounded, and most of all, human. Sometimes, when the tip of the pushpin gets caught on a piece of skin then rips through it, I can hear a sound right before the stinging pain hits. I’ll break through the first few layers of skin slowly, then scrape the pushpin in the cut as fast as I can to quickly cut through the veins and as deep as I can go, until blood is oozing out and dripping onto the floor. The pain and blood clears the depressed fog in my mind, helps me think clearer. On really bad days, I’ll cut myself over a hundred times. My legs and arms will be completely covered in gashes. I always clean my cuts with hydrogen peroxide. The burning sensation searing in the lacerations keeps the pain alive.

I skip a shower the next day. Showers are even more excruciating with cuts than the actual act itself is. I try to give a day for the cuts to heal before I take a shower. It doesn’t do much, but I enjoy telling myself that it stings and itches less. I’m grateful that it’s rainy and dark outside. I’ll have a perfectly good excuse for wearing a baggy sweater all day. This way, I can take a break from my chest binder as well. I’ll just have to deal with the mental agony. I’ve been having terrifying chest pains from binding so much. If I’m going to die, it’s not going to be from that. It’s going to be from my own intentional doing, not from something I do to maintain my sanity. 

The next Monday after my relapse into self harm, Dean enters geometry looking depressed. It’s just him and I at our table today. It’s a calmer day without much to do. I take this as an opportunity to ask him what’s wrong.

“How are you today?” I ask as gently as I can.

Dean looks at me with a sad smile. “He’s straight. Crowley’s straight as an arrow.”

Dean looks so sad. Nothing in me celebrates that Crowley is no longer a concern of mine. All I can see is that the person I’m falling in love with is heartbroken. Some nurturing instinct is unlocked in me. All I want to do is hug Dean, stroke his face and kiss his forehead, and tell him that everything will be okay.

“Can I have a hug?” Dean’s voice is quiet and seems ashamed.

“Of course,” I reply.

Our second hug isn’t nearly as awkward as the first, but it is drastically different. He squeezes me tight and seems to be clinging to me. My heart breaks seeing him like this, knowing that he’s in pain. I hug him as tightly as I can without hurting him. He seems to relax into my arms. When the hug is over, he seems happier. 

_Castiel, you officially matter to someone for the first time in your entire life._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I apologize for the sporadic updates!! Life has been so hectic, but once things even out there will be more regular updates.


	5. You Should Think Happy Thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, so sorry for the bad updating rates. To quote the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, "My life got flipped-turned upside down." On the bright side, the story will be picking up from here as Dean and Cas get to know each other more. Also, this fanfic is based off of a true story. I'm basing it on a dear friend of mine's relationship so once the story catches up to the reality, updates may be a bit slower.

_Today’s the day, Castiel. You’re going to give Dean your phone number. You should think happy thoughts and maybe they’ll come true._

I practically fly to my bus stop. On the bus, my legs jitter in anticipation. I have to wait until second period before I can even see Dean. It’s been a couple weeks since we’ve become good friends, but I feel like I’ve known him my whole life. I’ve finally accepted that I’m starting to fall in love with him, despite his excessive drug use. I can see how much pain he’s in. I can see how desperate he is to numb his feelings and run away from his past. My heart goes out to him and I can only hope that he will let me in. I want to help Dean because he deserves the love and support it’s clear he has not been getting. 

First period goes by excruciatingly slow. My feet silently tap, my knees bounce, my hands fidget. I’m in sign language. Probably the worst class I could space out in. I miss what the teacher signs at the beginning of the class and am completely lost, unsure of what activities we are doing. All I can think about is Dean. I’m going to give him my phone number, and I’m going to be smooth about it. I don’t know the appropriate social rules for texting, so waiting for Dean to text me will be the safest. To keep it from being too obvious that I have feelings for him, I will offer Anna my phone number as well. My plan forms in my head, intricate details placing themselves in the puzzle. Right when the bell rings to signal that first period is over, my plan is complete.

“Hey, Cas!” Dean calls from our table. He seems uncomfortable because a purple-haired girl is sitting across from him. He turns to her and says, clearly irritated, “We broke up last year Abaddon, I want nothing to do with you. Get out of Castiel’s seat.”

Abaddon laughs. “Oh Dean, we were together for five years. Don’t you remember the library?” she smirks. Her shoulder-length purple hair, crutches, and a tail pinned to her pants make her stand out. I’ve seen her in the class before, but I didn’t realize that Dean and her had a history together. My resolve crumbles. Yet more competition, yet more people Dean has or had interest in that have seniority over me since I’ve only known him for a little over two months. She finally moves, giving me a quick glare and returning to her seat by the door.

Anna rushes in right before the bell rings and sits next to Dean. Her arms and hair flail wildly as she hurriedly gets out her math notebook, pencil pouch, and calculator. Her breathing is heavy like she had to run from the complete opposite side of the school. At this point, I’m ready to give up on trying to give Dean my phone number. People with interest in him keep interrupting. Maybe it’s the Lord’s way of saying that it’s not meant to be, that I shouldn’t be around someone as degenerate as Dean. “Oh thank goodness, I made it,” Anna gets out between gulping breaths. “Had to use the bathroom and there was a line because none of the toilets or sinks in this stupid school work.”

Dean laughs. “Yeah, this building sucks ass.”

Anna glares at him. “Language, Dean.”

Anna is a bit uptight, even for me. Whenever she swears, she snaps a hair-tie that’s around her wrist to remind herself that it’s bad. She can’t tolerate any inappropriate jokes. It’s nice to have someone so innocent around, showing that the whole school isn’t corrupt. Yet it can be a bit stifling at times. I secretly enjoy dirty or offensive jokes and don’t think swearing is wrong, just as long as the jokes and swears aren’t directed at somebody in particular and are meant lightheartedly. My thoughts are interrupted by Dean reciting every cuss word he knows and Anna covering her ears and glaring at him. My plan falls to pieces. They would make such a cute couple - the bad boy and the good girl. So opposite and completely different that it would work harmoniously. Dean turns to me, his smile faltering when he sees how dejected I look.

“Everything all right, Cas?” Dean asks, a gentle tone to his voice.

I give him the best smile that I can. “Yes, just tired as usual.” I look at Anna and then back at Dean. “How are you two?”

Anna cuts over Dean, “I’m pretty good! I got a B on my essay in English. The teacher grades so hard, I don’t know how she expects anyone to get an A.” I agree with her. We have the same class and the same teacher, just on different days. I look at Dean.

“Uh, yeah, I’m okay,” he says. God, I wish I could just hold him. “Okay, so who’s doing what for the project?” The three of us begin working on a project together. It’s a bit like a scavenger hunt, only with math problems that need to be solved. I stick with Dean as much as I can. I figure that having Dean alone would be better for trying to salvage my plan.

“Hey, um, Dean?” I inquire.

“Yeah, Cas?” he responds.

“Is it okay if I give you my number? Just in case I miss a school day. I get sick unexpectedly and want to keep up on homework,” I sputter out. I hope my voice isn’t shaking from my nerves.

Dean seems ecstatic. “Yeah, of course! Here, let me give you my phone so you can just put your number in.”

I type my number in carefully. I don’t want all this trouble to end up with accidentally giving him the wrong number. When I give Dean his phone back, he instantly sends me a text.

Unknown Number: Heyyyyy it’s Dean just wanted to make sure it works

Unknown Number: testing testing 123

I include the number as a contact and respond.

Me: Hello Dean

Dean: Yes! It works!

I look up from my phone and grin. Dean’s smiling at me as well. I can’t believe my plan worked!

_See, Cas? All you had to do was think happy thoughts._


End file.
